Tin Pan Alley

by Kathryn Albright

This will be my last post for Sweet Americana Sweethearts as a regular contributor to the blog.  For this last post, I would like to resurrect one of my earlier posts that had to do with the Grandma's Wedding Quilts Book Set. If you haven't had a chance to read any of the stories, they are delight. The writers here at Sweet Americana Sweethearts, each chose a cousin and then figured out ages and plot-lines for them. What an undertaking for our fearless leader ~ Zina Abbot! She kept us all in line.

While most of the heroes and heroines of the book set lived in the west, my particular heroine grew up in the east. Here are some of the "behind the scenes" of Gloria's Song.

What do the famous songwriters Irving Berlin, Ira Gershwin, Oscar Hammerstein II, George M. Cohen, Cole Port, Jerome Kern, and Scott Joplin all have in common with the hero in Gloria's Song?

They all found their way to Tin Pan Alley during their musical careers.

Tin Pan Alley, NYC (Wikimedia CC)

Now days, music popularity is determined by how many times a song is streamed from the internet. Back before CDs and vinyl records, a songs popularity was determined by how many sheet music copies it sold.  From 1880 until 1953, Tin Pan Alley was the absolute center of the sheet music publishing industry in New York City. It was located on West 28th Street between Broadway and Sixth Avenue in Manhattan.

When vaudeville singers would perform in NYC, they would often stop by Tin Pan Alley to find new songs for their acts. Musicians, Broadway singers, songwriters, and song pluggers found their way to Tin Pan Alley. Song pluggers were pianists and singers who were hired by the publishing company to familiarize the public with new songs and hopefully make the song a hit. George Gershwin got his start as a song plugger.

Gloria's Song is set in 1889. At that time, the popular songs coming out of Tin Pan Alley were ballads or comic novelty songs. These are the types of songs Colin McDougal, my character was trying to write. "Where Did You Get That Hat?" was a popular song of the day and one that I mention in my story.

Colin McDougal helps manage a tavern in a small town along the Potomac River. He has a knack for playing the piano and can play a tune easily after only hearing it once. He brings in a lot of business to his family-owned tavern, but secretly he hopes that one day, one of the songs he composes, will make it big on Tin Pan Alley.

At the same time, the growing piano-making industry likely gave song publishers a boost in sales. Several large furniture factories moved into the piano-making business and suddenly upright grand pianos became affordable for the middle class. It became the epitome of "class" to have a piano in your home and if you had a daughter, for her to learn to play.

Gloria, in my story, is such a daughter from the upper class. Outside of Tin Pan Alley, the popularity of classics and romantic music continued strong. Romantic composers wrote between 1815 and 1910. I envisioned some fun scenes between Gloria and Colin that incorporated their clash of music types.

One last thing that sparked my interest in writing Gloria's Song...  As some of you may know, I dedicated this book to my mother and I set the story on the Potomac River where my mother's family originates. My mother took years and  years of piano lessons and is a marvelous pianist, yet she has often remarked how her sister can sit right down and play anything at all simply by sight-reading it. To be able to "sight-read" something means that you can play it quite well without any practice. That was the seed of the idea for my story, Gloria's Song.

And now you know!

* * * * * * * * * 

I have loved being a part of this amazing group of women writers and I have learned so much

 from reading their posts! It was our love of writing and love of American history
that brought us together and I will forever be grateful for my time here. I wish all the authors
 and all the readers here a wonderful 2019 filled with sweet happy-ever-afters!

Kathryn                 

Gloria Palmer has always done the proper thing expected of her as the daughter of a shipping tycoon. The approval of her family and friends mean everything. And yet, when the perfect suitor offers for her… she hesitates.

Colin McDougal has little use for those living on the fancy side of the trolley tracks. He’s too busy managing the family pub and, in his spare time, writing down the lively tunes in his head. So, when Miss Palmer asks for his help to prepare for a music audition, he is flummoxed. What does he know of highbrow music?

But with each practice session, their feelings for each other grow. When it comes time for Gloria to make a choice between what is proper and what she desires, will she realize that if music can cross class lines—and the trolley tracks in town—perhaps it can also harmonize two hearts.* * * * * * * * *

You can find Gloria's Song in ebook and paperback HERE and all the other wonderful stories of Grandmother's Wedding Quilts HERE.

Fact and Fiction Behind the Oak Grove Series ~

By Kathryn Albright

With the release of Christmas with the Outlaw over the holidays, the Oak Grove Series that I wrote with Lauri Robinson came to its conclusion. I loved writing this sweet series set in Kansas, diving into the history of the land and  the people there so that the stories would come alive with authenticity. I thought I'd share some of the behind the scenes facts that helped drive and layer the plots of each book.

For example ~

Book #1 

FACT:  

A year after the 1878 setting of the first book in the series, I learned that a prominent issue in the state legislature was prohibition. Carrie A. Nation, was living at Medicine Lodge, KS at this time before she began her famous crusade against alcohol. By 1880, an amendment to the state constitution was in place that prohibited the manufacture, sale, or gift of liquor. And by 1881, Kansas had become the first state to prohibit all alcoholic beverages.

FICTION:

So, in Mail-Order Brides of Oak Grove (set in 1878) when twin sisters, Mary and Maggie, were “railroaded” into the fledgling town as obstinate mail-order brides-to-be, it was only natural for them to try to escape their predicament. As daughters of a snake-oil salesman, and in the midst of the brewing controversy (pun intended,) they resurrected their past livelihoods and began making their meade-based family health elixir.

Book #2

FACT:  

Flooding of the Smoky Hill River often occurred in the spring and eventually dams were built along the river to try to control the worst of it. While bridges were slowly being built along the more populated areas of the river (Salina), Oak Grove still had a ferry crossing. In the spring of 1879, the heavy rains brought intense flooding that destroyed the crops and land to the south of the river. In soddies, it wasn’t unusual for the roof to cave in. (For more on this, see Homesteading on the Prairie, a previous post of mine.)

FICTION:

In The Prairie Doctor’s Bride, it was this torrential rain and flooding that necessitated that independent, isolationist Sylvia Marks leave her soggy soddie and brave the river so that she and her son could survive. It also forced her to leave her comfort zone and look to others for help. Eastern-educated Doctor Nelson had a lot to learn about women and life on the prairie, and Sylvia was just the one to teach him, if he’d only put aside his prejudices.

Book #3

FACT: 

In 1873, George Grant transported four Angus bulls from Scotland to Kansas and showed them at the Kansas City Livestock Exposition. Breeding these bulls with Texas longhorns produced a much heartier breed. (For more see my post From Longhorns to No-Horns.)  In 1874 four Kansas Railroads shipped 122,914 head of Texas cattle to the east. Mennonites from Russia introduced Turkey Red wheat to the state. And the Native Americans were forced to move to the reservation in Oklahoma Territory. In 1878, the last Native American uprising in Kansas occurred in Decatur County.

FICTION:

In Wedding at Rocking S Ranch, Raymond Wolf is looking out for the ranch of his best friend. The ranch had once been an encampment of his mother’s people – the Wichita. He is studying the breeding of the Texas longhorns with Angus cattle. When his best friend’s widow arrives in the autumn with news that she intends to sell the ranch, Wolf’s life is suddenly upended. Amid the arduous work of branding and driving the cattle to market, they discover that the truths they have believed were an illusion, and that what matters most is far more important.

BOOK #4 

FACT:

Newspaper work is dangerous! Missing fingers and long hours. (See The 19th Century Newspaper Office)  It was fun gathering facts about small-town newspaper offices and touring Midway Village ~ a nearby living history museum. I was able to speak with the docent there who just happened to be a small-town newspaper man!

FICTION:  

In Christmas With the Outlaw, my novella in A Western Christmas Homecoming, Abigail White is a straight-laced, just-the-facts, unemotional journalist. It’s safer for her heart that way. When a man from her past stumbles into her newspaper office to hide from the law, suddenly she is confronted with an emotional crisis. Should she be true to her journalistic sensibilities and report him to the sheriff? Or will her heart win out? She must learn that not all is what it appears on the surface of a person’s life.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Researching my stories always gives my plots more layers ~ even though often I disappear for hours down the "research rabbit hole" chasing trails that are down right fun, but don't lead anywhere productive. But then...sometimes they do!

HAPPY 2019!

I enjoy hearing from my readers! Please find me at

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And find my books at

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A Western Christmas Homecoming

by Kathryn Albright

Have you ever had to forgive someone who hurt you?

The ups and downs of emotions when a boy desires a girl -- and a girl wants a boy -- 

but the past has painted a less than rosy memory...  How do they ever get beyond 

the hurt and perceptions of the past? 

Perhaps romance writers are eternal optimists...the way they believe that in the end 

kindness, forgiveness, and love matter more. It's been said that holding on to 

past hurts and grudges cripples the one with the strong grip. 

Abigail, in Christmas With the Outlaw, can be a bit … prickly. It's her way of coping, her way of staving off disappointments and protecting herself. The only one she has ever let close is her brother, Teddy, but now he has married and is starting a family of his own. She is quite alone -- 

with the heavy cloak of her sharp attitude pulled tight around her.

In the last story of the Oak Grove Series, I thought it was high time Abigail White, 

intrepid reporter, had her own … Happy Ever After. 

~ Excerpt from Christmas With the Outlaw 
(in A Western Christmas Homecoming)

Russ drained the cup on his next sip. It wasn’t very big—a woman’s dainty, painted teacup. He was glad that she held it. In his hand, it might shatter. Well…maybe not so much now considering how weak he felt. He lay back against the pillow as a wave of gratitude washed over him that she’d been here…that Teddy had been here. “So… I made it to Oak Grove.”
    “You wouldn’t have made it an inch farther. What in the world happened?”
    He was still trying to sort that part out. “A lot. I…uh…appreciate you taking me in.” She hadn’t wanted to. He remembered hearing that much during a lucid moment.
    Startled, she met his gaze. “Russ… Of course, you are welcome. We’ve had our differences, but I would never want you…”
    “Dead?” He gave a half laugh to cover his frustration. His life had suddenly come undone. To hell with the teacup, his life was what was shattered, and he’d played a part in letting it happen. “We didn’t get on all that well, you and me. Guess you’re entitled to your own opinion.”
    They were harsh words, but honest.
    She avoided his gaze. Where was her patent keen retort? Her silence now could only mean one of two things. Either he’d been so near expiring that he really had frightened her or, which was more likely, her opinion of him was still mired in the mud. Unspoken, but heavy in the room, was their last parting.
    She set the teacup aside. “How is Tim?”
    So it was still Tim. He blew out a breath, a sense of unease weighting his gut. “He’s married now. Loves ranching. He and his wife are expecting their first baby.”
    She pulled back, her composure stiff. “Then he’s content living in Colorado.”
    “Abby. He wasn’t for you.”
    She pressed her lips together. “That really isn’t any of your business. Then or now.”
    Why was she still angry with him after all this time? Didn’t she realize that she had deserved someone who was more her match? Someone stronger, with more grit than Timothy. Someone a heck more like himself. “If he had really wanted to stay, he would have.”
    “You’re implying I should be grateful that you whisked him away?”
    “Yeah. Maybe you should.” Tim was too easily swayed. She would have been bored after a month of marriage. Russ figured he’d saved her from a pile of grief and he wasn’t one bit sorry about it. “It proved his mettle.”
    A moment passed as she mulled over his words. “Teddy once said the same thing.”
    “There you go.”
    She met his gaze. “No one calls me Abby here. When we moved here, I asked Teddy to introduce me as Abigail. It’s more professional.”
    “Hmph. I like Abby.” She’d always be Abby to him.
    Amusement flashed in her eyes. “You would.” Then her entire demeanor softened as she lowered her shoulders. “I suppose I like it too. And Russ…I’m glad you felt you could come to Teddy…come to us for help. Friends are…so very important.”
    As long as they don’t shoot you, he thought bitterly. How long had it been since then? “What day is it?”
    “Early Wednesday. Morning has just broken. I found you yesterday in our storage room.”
    Four days then. McCabe was shot on Saturday. Word would be out about him.
    She studied him, her dark brows knitting together. “The important thing now is that you are better. You are going to be all right.” She stood. “I’ll see to some breakfast for us.”
    He wasn’t used to having anyone worry over him—not since his own mother. Yet he couldn’t deny that it felt good to be among friends he could trust, friends who cared. “Sounds good. I’m starving.”
    A wry smile formed on her lips, revealing dimples on each cheek.
    He remembered those dimples. At thirteen, they’d been inconsistent with the rest of her sharp-edged personality and she hadn't showed them much anyway. Now? Hmm…
    “Starving it is? Then you must be feeling better. Perhaps you won’t even mind my cooking.”
    How difficult could it be to whip together toast and eggs? “You’ve got to be teasing.” And then it struck him. Abby? Teasing?
    Her cheeks flamed pink. “No. Actually, I’m telling the truth.” She scooted from the room.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~
Thank you for stopping by Sweet Americana Sweethearts. 

In this season of love and giving, I want to wish you a very, merry Christmas! 

AMAZON |  BARNES & NOBLE  |  HARLEQUIN

A Christmas Release and an Excerpt!

By Kathryn Albright

I love autumn with a capital A! So I truly prefer to think about Christmas AFTER Thanksgiving. That said... my publishers at Harlequin have released my Christmas book, and so I do want you to be aware of it among all the hubbub as we approach the holidays!

A Western Christmas Homecoming contains three novellas that take place during the Christmas Season.  Christmas With the Outlaw, my story in the anthology, is the last book in the Oak Grove Series that I have been writing with Lauri Robinson. Oh my, how hard it is to say goodbye to the inhabitants of our dear fictional town, but I believe after seven books, it is time. Here's a blurb of the characters and plot...

Abigail White reports the news for the Oak Grove Gazette -- clearly, concisely, and ...rather critically, until the day outlaw Russ Carter stumbles through her back door, injured and seeking a place to hide.

Russ never expected to see Abigail again. She's all grown up now -- sharp, smart, and fascinating. Compassion is not her strength, but in this season of giving, a few elves are hard at work, and Abigail's own heart might just be the cost.

    ~  Excerpt ~ 

Christmas with the Outlaw
   

Russ drained the cup on his next sip. It wasn’t very big—a woman’s dainty, painted teacup. He was glad that she held it. In his hand, it might shatter. Well…maybe not so much now considering how weak he felt. He lay back against the pillow as a wave of gratitude washed over him that she’d been here…that Teddy had been here. “So… I made it to Oak Grove.”

“You wouldn’t have made it an inch farther. What in the world happened, Russ?”

He was still trying to sort that part out. “A lot. I…uh…appreciate you taking me in.” She hadn’t wanted to. He remembered hearing that much during a lucid moment.

Startled, she met his gaze. “Russ… Of course, you are welcome. We’ve had our differences, but I would never want you…”

“Dead?” He gave a half laugh to cover his frustration. His life had suddenly come undone. To hell with the teacup, his life was what was shattered, and he’d played a part in letting it happen. “We didn’t get on all that well, you and me. Guess you’re entitled to your own opinion.”

They were harsh words, but honest.

She avoided his gaze. Where was her patent keen retort? Her silence now could only mean one of two things. Either he’d been so near expiring that he really had frightened her or, which was more likely, her opinion of him was still mired in the mud. Unspoken, but heavy in the room, was their last parting.

She set the teacup aside. “How is Tim?”

So it was still Tim. He blew out a breath, a sense of unease weighting his gut. “He’s married now. Loves ranching. He and his wife are expecting their first baby.”

She pulled back, her composure stiff. “Then he’s content living in Colorado.”

“Abby. He wasn’t for you.”

She pressed her lips together. “That really isn’t any of your business. Then or now.”

Why was she still angry with him after all this time? Didn’t she realize that she had deserved someone who was more her match? Someone stronger, with more grit than Timothy. Someone a heck more like himself. “If he had really wanted to stay, he would have.”

“You’re implying I should be grateful that you whisked him away?”

“Yeah. Maybe you should.” Tim was too easily swayed. She would have been bored after a month of marriage. Russ figured he’d saved her from a pile of grief and he wasn’t one bit sorry about it. “It proved his mettle.”

A moment passed as she mulled over his words. “Teddy once said the same thing.”

“There you go.”

She met his gaze. “No one calls me Abby here. When we moved here, I asked Teddy to introduce me as Abigail. It’s more professional.”

“Hmph. I like Abby.” She’d always be Abby to him.

Amusement flashed in her eyes. “You would.” Then her entire demeanor softened as she lowered her shoulders. “I suppose I like it too. And Russ…I’m glad you felt you could come to Teddy…come to us for help. Friends are…so very important.”

As long as they don’t shoot you, he thought bitterly. How long had it been since then? “What day is it?”

“Early Wednesday. Morning has just broken. I found you yesterday in our storage room.”

Four days then. McCabe was shot on Saturday. Word would be out about him.

She studied him, her dark brows knitting together. “The important thing now is that you are better. You are going to be all right.” She stood. “I’ll see to some breakfast for us.”

He wasn’t used to having anyone worry over him—not since his own mother. Yet he couldn’t deny that it felt good to be among friends he could trust, friends who cared. “Sounds good. I’m starving.”

A wry smile formed on her lips, revealing dimples on each cheek.

He remembered those dimples. At thirteen, they’d been inconsistent with the rest of her sharp-edged personality and she hadn't showed them much anyway. Now? Hmm…

“Starving it is? Then you must be feeling better. Perhaps you won’t even mind my cooking.”

How difficult could it be to whip together toast and eggs? “You’ve got to be teasing.” And then it struck him. Abby? Teasing?

Her cheeks flamed pink. “No. Actually, I’m telling the truth.” She scooted from the room.

A Western Christmas Homecoming © by Harlequin Books & Kathryn Albright
Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.

Here is the back cover blurb about the other two stories
and a necessary caution since this is a blog site that caters to stories that are G-rated...  Since I haven't read these two stories I am unaware of their "sweet & clean" status, however Christmas with the Outlaw is rated G!

SNOWBOUND IN BIG SPRINGS  by Lauri Robinson

CHRISTMAS DAY WEDDING BELLS  by Lynna Banning
CHRISTMAS WITH THE OUTLAW by Kathryn Albright

Three festive stories ~ Christmas in the Wild West!

In Christmas Day Wedding Bells by Lynna Banning, buttoned-up librarian Alice is swept away by US marshal Rand Logan on a new adventure. Then, Welles is Snowbound in Big Springs in this novella by Lauri Robinson, where he must confront Sophie and their undeclared feelings… Finally, rugged outlaw Russ rescues Abigail from spending the festive season alone in Christmas with the Outlaw by Kathryn Albright! 

AMAZON | HARLEQUIN |  BARNES & NOBLE

The 19th Century Newspaper Office

By Kathryn Albright

Composing sticks, tympans, and friskets…Oh My! What do these all have in common? 

They are all parts that make up a newspaper office.

  

When I decided to write Abigail White’s story as the last addition to The Oak Grove Series, my research into the early newspaper office of the 1880's took me back to my local “living history village” where I was able to glean information on American small-town newspapers from our local historian and docent.

For a town like Oak Grove, situated on the Kansas plains, paper was ordered and arrived on large rolls by wagon or by train. Once delivered, it was cut into the desired size.

Upper and Lower Case type

Type was made of a composite of cast iron and steel. The most common were Wisconsin type and Hamilton type. Type was stored in type-cases – large drawers with many different sized compartments. The higher or upper case held capital letters. The lower case held… you got it…lower-case type.

The compositor or typesetter (or in my story – Abigail or her brother, Teddy White) – removes a piece of type from one of the compartments of the type case and places it in the composing stick. Not so difficult until you realize this had to be done working from left to right and bottom to top, placing the letters upside-down! Can you tell what this type says? (Answer at bottom of post.)

Composing Stick ~ Photo by Wilhei [CC BY 3.0] from Wikimedia Commons

The composer stick was the width of the column that would be used in the paper. The one at Midway Village was manufactured in Chicago by the H.B. Rouse Company which was a common national supplier of these devices in the U.S. The type would first be arranged in this and then transferred to a large frame. 

For pictures, the newspaper office would purchase a few etchings from a factory, and then used them in numerous ways. For example – an etching of pine trees to be used at Christmastime or a fancy United States Flag etching to be used on National Holidays such as the Fourth of July. Local companies that used the newspaper for sale announcements would have their own etchings made and supply them to the newspapers to be used frequently over the years.

Printer’s ink was oil-based, thick and tarry. It won’t spill if turned upside down. On cold days, the ink didn’t flow well and would become so thick that it would create a blob on the letters and thus on the paper if used. A blade would be used to scoop it up and spread it on a flat plate. Here you can see the round, disk-like flat plate.

Oak Grove Gazette Printing Press

The plate would be pressed against the letters and then against a piece of paper. A rhythm would start up, and if not very careful, the plate could easily smash fingers. For newspapermen, it was the middle two fingers that most often were smashed or severed.

With the linotypes of the 1870s and 1880s, “printer’s disease” was a danger.  It was contracted by working with lead in the linotype. The workers would absorb the lead through their skin and get lead poisoning. These types of printers were in the larger cities and so I didn’t make mention of it in Christmas With the Outlaw.

A “galley proof” or test copy was always made before any further papers were printed. This was to ensure that the type had been set accurately. A piece of type could accidentally be stored in the wrong case and as rapidly as the apprentice had to work, it could end up being placed back into a composing stick. The metal type, being comparably soft, could also become damaged or worn.

Once the galley proof was checked and last-minute corrections were incorporated, the type would be fixed in the frame to ready it for printing.

A rope stretched across the length of the newspaper office so that once printed, pages could be placed over the rope for drying. Once the ink was dry on the “front,” the back side of the paper could then be printed upon.

It was a dirty job and as you’ve read…could be dangerous. The large paper cutters could easily cut off fingers that got in the way! Newspaper men had ink-stained fingers and they often worked overnight to get the paper out in the morning.

In Christmas With the Outlaw, siblings Teddy and Abigail put out a weekly paper so the pace is do-able. They inherited their printing press from their parents and transported it by wagon to Oak Grove, looking for a fresh start in a growing new town. Abigail is also the town reporter and takes her job seriously.

Oh yes! And the answer to the above type in the composing stick is:  

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog and feels
as if he were in the seventh heaven of typography. 

Connect with Kathryn!

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From Longhorns to No Horns!

by Kathryn Albright

Recently, I had to research different types of cattle here in America for my most newest story, Wedding at Rocking S Ranch that takes place on a ranch. Oak Grove was a railroad town that blossomed as a result of its location and the cattle drives from Texas. Sure, Longhorns came from Texas, but was that the kind of cattle that would be found on a ranch in Kansas? I had to know. I also had to check the history of barbed wire.

1870 marked the start of the big cattle drives into Kansas. 300,00 arrived that year. The next year that amount doubled. Three-fifths of the cattle were "stock cattle" which means they were yearlings, heifers, cows and steers younger than four years old. Abilene, Kansas, Wichita and Dodge City became the towns (and later cities) that truly boomed with the transporting of cattle to market.

Many of the Longhorns didn't immediately board the train and head to points farther east, but wintered in Kansas, existing on the buffalo-grass prairie. Although barbed wire had been invented and was in use, the sectioning off of large parcels of land hadn't happened yet in Kansas in 1879 at the time my story takes place. Cattle still roamed free and had to be watched over by cowboys. At the Rocking S Ranch, the ranch-house and the crops had fences around them to keep the cattle out of the corn and alfalfa. This was known as "fenced out." Further east, a farmer would use wood and barbed wire to enclose a pasture, which was known as "fenced in."

In my story, I have the owner of the ranch looking into crossbreeding his longhorns with another breed of cattle to make a healthier, more profitable herd. He has brought in Black Angus to give this a try. Black Angus first came to Kansas in 1873 when George Grant transported them from Scotland. Where the longhorns were hardy, they were a tougher meat and had a wild-streak and could be difficult to manage. Angus had a gentle nature and were more susceptible to extremes in weather. Their meat is more tender and has a better flavor that the longhorns. Angus weigh between 850 and 1000 pounds when mature.

When Grant took his four Angus bulls to the fair in Kansas City Livestock Exposition that year, the local people didn't know what to think of them. These cattle had no horns! (Called polled, which means naturally hornless.) But Grant had the last laugh when he successfully crossed his bulls with native Texas longhorns. The calves were hardier, hornless, and weighed more. Between 1878 and 1883, twelve hundred Angus cattle were imported to the Midwest. Cross-breeding has steadily improved the hardiness of the Angus here in America.

And there are Red Angus! Red Angus occur as the result of a recessive gene. They are the same as their black relatives except they are actually more tolerant of the hot weather. At one time, The Angus Association barred the registration of Red Angus in an attempt to promote a solid black breed. Likely that is one of the reasons they are fewer in number. Eventually, The Red Angus Association of America formed when breeders searched out and collected the Red Angus from the black herds.

Although I used a lot of this information in Wedding at Rocking S Ranch, it was sprinkled in with a light touch. In historical romance, it is the relationship between the two protagonists that carry the story after all! 

When Cassandra Stewart fulfills her husband’s dying wish by visiting the ranch he loved, she plans to sell it. But then she meets his best friend. As aloof, ruggedly handsome Wolf shows Cassandra the value of life in the prairies, tenderness begins to grow from their shared pain into something more…
Maybe there’s a future for her at the Rocking S Ranch after all…

 "The plot was riveting. I couldn’t put it down even when it was well past my bed time."
Long & Short Reviews

Available at Amazon, Harlequin, and Barnes and Noble!

New Release in the Oak Grove Series!

by Kathryn Albright

 I am happy to announce a new release in the Oak Grove Series!

 
   
    Here’s the back cover blurb ~

Can a Widow in the Wild West …find wedded bliss again?

When Cassandra Stewart fulfills her husband’s dying wish by visiting the ranch he loved, she plans to sell it. But then she meets his best friend. As aloof, ruggedly handsome Wolf shows Cassandra the value of life in the prairies, tenderness begins to grow from their shared pain into something more… Maybe there is a future for her at the Rocking S Ranch after all…

The hero in this story captured my heart. I have a soft spot for the competent, yet brooding type and Wolf is all that. What traits say “hero” to you?

 I also wanted to share a short book trailer…


 

And an excerpt from Chapter One ~

Oak Grove, Kansas, 1878

Raymond Wolf rammed the oil-soaked cloth down the rifle’s barrel for one last coating, making sure the path was smooth and slippery without any catches. It had to be perfect if it was to be his best friend’s wedding present.

The long swab pressed against the farthest end of the shaft, and at the same moment, something squeezed in Wolf’s chest. An invisible weight descended, as if the very air pressed down on him. Maybe he had been working too hard. He’d had that large order to finish for Dodge City last week, which demanded all of his time. This was the first chance he’d had to work on Doug’s rifle.

The sensation grew stronger. Doug’s face filled his mind. He set the rifle barrel on his workbench and clutched the turquoise stone at his neck. The small workshop, the snow falling outside the front window, all faded away into a gray mist. Then his friend’s face faded too. Something had happened.

“Wolf?” Jackson Miller spoke from the doorway, breaking into the strange fog. Miller stepped inside quickly, followed by another man—a stranger—and shut the door. “Got a man here looking for you.”

Wolf released his grip on the stone and struggled to shake off the premonition. He stood and backed away from his work area, staring at the hammer, trigger guard and bow drill that lay on the table. Absent only a moment ago, now the strong scent of oil and varnish filled the air once more.

Miller stepped farther into the room and removed his flat cap. “Are you all right?”

Wolf looked up, still slightly dazed. “Miller,” he said, acknowledging his neighbor.

Then his thoughts cleared, and he noticed the short, pudgy man in a gray suit peering around Miller’s shoulder. Wolf wiped the oil from his hands on an old rag and slowly removed his shop apron, hanging it from its neck loop on the peg beside the window. He turned back to the two men. “What can I do for you?”

“Raymond Wolf?” the stranger asked, his gaze dubious.

Outsiders always took a moment to adjust to his looks. Confusion happened first, quickly followed by suspicion, and then the lingering unspoken question: Why wasn’t he on a reservation with the rest of his tribe? And more than that—was he dangerous? Wolf counted it ironic that along with his appearance, the profession he had fallen into—gunsmithing—also made them nervous. It was ironic and, if he was truthful, satisfying.

“Excuse me. My name is Franklin Masters. I…uh…have some unfortunate news regarding an acquaintance of yours. A Mr. Douglas Stewart.”

Wolf blew out his breath and braced himself. He knew what would be said before the man continued. His friend—his blood brother—wouldn’t be coming home.

Wedding at Rocking S Ranch © by Harlequin Books & Kathryn Albright

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